


a venn diagram of love

by dwaekki



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwaekki/pseuds/dwaekki
Summary: There are a number of questions you ask a couple when you’re pressing to get to know more about their relationship, aren’t there? (In 2020, a year to forget, a group of eight people all fall in love — some more intensely than others.)
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	a venn diagram of love

**one.  
** Seungmin went blind when he was four. Jeongin began to sing when he was five.  
**and their story begins**

_ ; What’s a fond memory you have together? _

Seungmin’s fingers itched as a result of the flower caught between his and Jeongin’s palms. The rest of his body may itch, too, should he have chosen to wear shorts or a shirt without sleeves. His neck felt the effects of long grass, but it was his hand that itched the most. He, however, could only think about the white flower for a moment; Jeongin was singing a white song in the next second, and everything white except for that melody faded from Seungmin’s mind.

"What color was that?" Jeongin spent his last breath after singing on the question. Seungmin answered easily, "White," and Jeongin kissed him, letting him know that his answer was correct. Jeongin was tired that day; Seungmin could tell from the way he kissed and the way he went silent when their lips parted. Seungmin asked, "Why are you so tired?" and Jeongin started to talk through the last bit of a yawn, his voice heavy at the start of his explanation, " _ I didn _ 't sleep much last night."

"Reason?" Seungmin asked. Jeongin’s hand shifted a bit, and fabric brushed grass near Seungmin’s ear. Jeongin’s shoulder bumped his. He had shrugged, "I couldn't sleep."

"Reason?"

"I guess I had a lot on my mind?” Jeongin suggested. “Also, I was missing you last night. I know, I know, it’s only been a week since we saw each other, but I was excited about seeing you and I couldn’t wait until morning came."

“I missed you, too.” Seungmin said fondly. Jeongin laughed, soft and sweet, and then his head was against Seungmin’s chest, ear to heartbeat. “Can I ask you a question, Seungmin?”

“Yes?”

“Is there something in particular that you really want to see?” Jeongin asked. “You told me there were a few things you’d want to see above all else, but we had to go to class after that, so you never got to tell me.”

“Oh, yeah;” Seungmin recalled the memory. He had been thinking about art at the time, as Jeongin had been talking about his art classes — how he was in drawing now and painting next, and he was nervous to explore a different medium. Seungmin’s mind hadn’t changed since then: “I really want to know what art looks like. You’re so passionate about it, and it makes me curious.”

Jeongin hummed, seeming surprised. Seungmin realized something, and said, “I would love to know what you look like, of course. You, and my friends, and my family, but, at the same time, it doesn’t really matter to me. What you look like doesn’t matter. I know you’re beautiful, all of you.”

Jeongin laughed, poking at Seungmin’s stomach — something he did when he was shy or embarrassed, Seungmin had come to find out. “You’re a sweetheart. I could try describing art to you someday, if you’d like? All art is really unique, though, so it’s hard… like, art can be so many things. Drawings, poems, music,  _ you _ .”

“ _ Me? _ The only art in this field is you, baby.” Seungmin said. Jeongin poked his stomach and laughed again; then, the two were kissing, briefly, and sweetly, not without tiny giggles to interrupt the connection of their lips every couple seconds.

_ ; Has he ever scared you? _

Seungmin heard some muffled noises, ones that he could ignore for the time being. All he wanted to do was relax — just a few more seconds. He was sure it was just Jeongin in the other room anyway, dancing around as he put laundry away, or as he cleaned up the bed. Seungmin focused on the way his lungs tugged at his mind, telling him to come up for breath, but they had just  _ barely _ begun to urge him to breathe. Just a few more seconds — but two hands grabbed his shoulders and, all of a sudden, a voice was yelling near him and someone was pulling him from the water. Seungmin’s hands scrambled to grab at the wrists, frightened for only a moment until he heard Jeongin's voice, his sobbing: "Seungmin! Seungmin,  _ what _ are you doing? Don't scare me like that! I thought you were  _ dead _ !"

Jeongin hugged him suddenly, and he sobbed into Seungmin’s shoulder. Seungmin held him tightly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was just… I don’t know. I do that a lot, baby, I'm okay."

"Why? Why do you—?" Jeongin paused for a moment to laugh, but then he sobbed a lot more. His hands were all over Seungmin — neck, shoulders, cheeks, and then lips met lips and Jeongin spoke again, "Nevermind. It doesn't matter, I just thought you were dead.  _ Oh my God _ , I thought you were dead."

"I'm not. I'm not dead, I'm okay." Seungmin said. He held Jeongin, felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders after a few moments. Seungmin rocked Jeongin softly, kissed at his shoulder and played with his hair. “I’m not dead. I’m here. I’m really sorry."

“No, no, I just panicked.” Jeongin said. He laughed, and didn’t sob this time. “I feel so ridiculous.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t have the same reaction if I thought you had drowned.” Seungmin said. He leaned back into the tub, kept his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder and found his hand to hold. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. You’re okay, so I’m okay.” Jeongin said. He kissed Seungmin’s forehead, and he asked, with a lot of hesitation, “I’m sorry, but, can I stay in here with you?”

“Yes. Do you want to join me? We can both squeeze in here.”

“No, it’s okay. I just want to sit with you. Pick a color.”

“Orange.”

Jeongin sang him orange songs until Seungmin was done with his bath, and, after scaring him so bad, Jeongin insisted that Seungmin owed him at least an hour of cuddles — which Seungmin happily gave up.

_ ; You’re clearly a fan of Day6. Have you ever been to a concert? _

“You’re  _ crazy _ , we can’t skip town for a concert! This is at  _ least _ three hours away, isn’t it? And that’s by car! We don’t have one of those! We can’t even drive! We’ll have to take buses and probably stay in a hotel and — we’re so broke, Innie! Finals are coming up and we’re going to be missing classes—!”

“Seungmin.” Jeongin said, placing his hands on Seungmin’s worried cheeks and kissing his lips briefly to get him to  _ focus _ for one second. “I want you to let go of all those things you’re worrying about, and I need you to trust me. You’re always so  _ good _ , so on top of things, so prepared. Just — let’s do something a little wrong for once. Let me take care of everything. School can wait for one day… maybe two days. Can’t it? For an adventure with me?”

Seungmin chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, and he was  _ so _ tempted to spew out his worries again, but Jeongin’s voice was  _ begging _ him to listen, and to let go, so he did. “ _ Okay _ . For you.  _ Only _ for you.”

Jeongin’s body shifted, and Seungmin guessed he was hopping in excitement for a few long seconds. When he stopped, he placed his hands boldly on Seungmin’s cheeks and kissed him; and Seungmin broke his worry with a smile.

“It’s going to be so much fun,” Jeongin promised, and Seungmin nodded, trying to push the last of his anxiety out of him, “I know.”

_ ; When did you know you were in love? _

“I painted something for you!”

“Oh?” Seungmin asked. He wasn’t really sure how to react, but he held out his hands and said, “Thank you, baby.”

Jeongin laughed, “Sorry, it’s a little bit bigger than palm-sized. But—” Jeongin took his hand, and led him to stand, “It’s right over here. Be careful, it’s on a canvas.”

Jeongin stopped, and Seungmin assumed he was standing in front of it once Jeongin had shifted his position a bit. Seungmin had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth to say thank you again, but then Jeongin’s hand was back on his, and he was guiding Seungmin’s hand to touch the painting. Seungmin’s fingers connected with a few bumps, and he gasped, his hands naturally tracing the braille letters once Jeongin had let go of his hand.

“It was supposed to be for your birthday.” Jeongin said as Seungmin read, “But I got so excited that I couldn’t wait.”

Seungmin said nothing, too focused on the painting:  _ Happy birthday, Seungmin! Remember when you told me the one thing you were most curious about was what art looked like? Well, here’s some art for you! I know this isn’t the same, but I can describe this painting to you. It’s really simple, because I’m not a good artist. The background is grey, like Goodbye Winter. There are some pink shadows, like When You Love Someone, and that’s supposed to be us. Your fingers are running over us right now. I hope you feel warm! We’re surrounded by red flowers, like Shoot Me, but they’re a little more pink, so they’re kind of like Feeling Good, too. We’re on an orange (Out of My Mind) hill, and hills aren’t supposed to be orange, but I know none of Day6’s green songs are your favorite. Also, it’s snowing! I forgot to mention that until now. At the top, there are little white snowflakes falling down on us, just like Letting Go. The snowflakes and the flowers don’t really mix, because they come in different seasons, but art is all about interpretation and breaking rules! That’s all there is, but I really hope you like this painting, Seungmin. I love you! Happy birthday! _

Seungmin had started crying about halfway through the letter, and Jeongin consoled him gently, fingers massaging his shoulders, lips kissing his cheek. Seungmin turned and threw his arms around Jeongin, sobbing. Jeongin hushed him: “Don’t cry, Min, please. Was it that touching?”

“You have no idea.” Seungmin muttered. He held onto Jeongin a little tighter, “That’s the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.”

“I’m really happy you like it.” Jeongin said, hand massaging the small of Seungmin’s back. “I really love you, Seungmin. I really want to make you happy.”

“You do,” Seungmin said, a little distracted -- still so in disbelief that Jeongin would give him something so  _ thoughtful _ . Seungmin would never think to paint a canvas with a braille description. How did Jeongin even do that--? Seungmin would ask later. For now, all he could choke out was: “You make me  _ so _ happy. I love you always.”

**two.  
** There’s a house three blocks down from Pie Central that every worker has memorized the address to because the boy that lives there orders pizza every Saturday, always gives half his order’s cost in tips, and is the talk of the town.  
**and their story begins**

_ ; Hold on. If you were just delivering pizzas to his house every weekend, how did you end up talking? _

“You’ve been here a couple times.” Hyunjin commented, taking his pizzas and handing Minho his tip. Minho didn’t often talk to customers any more than a ‘Here’s your receipt; Your total comes out to--; so his initial reaction was to blink a couple times, clearing those repetitive customer service words out of his head to say something intelligent: “Yeah. I’m mostly on delivery duty.”

It wasn’t the most exciting response Minho could have given, but Hyunjin was satisfied enough: “You’re my favorite so far.”

“Uh...” Minho was very much confused. Had they met before? Hyunjin didn’t explain, busy momentarily as he handed the pizzas off to someone else. He still didn’t elaborate, though, when he gave Minho his attention again, simply leaning against his door frame and waiting for Minho to get the next words in. Minho asked, “Your favorite… delivery person?”

“Yes. You’re the prettiest one.” Hyunjin said. Minho grew a bit shy at that, avoiding eye contact, “Thanks?”

“I have to go now — make sure no one breaks anything. I’m going to order another pizza next weekend, though. I’ll give you my number with your tip.” Hyunjin said. “Sounds good?”

He was bold, Minho thought. He was pretty intrigued, and, of course,  _ very _ attracted to Hyunjin, what with his stunning looks and outgoing attitude. Minho nodded, because he didn’t know what he could say, and Hyunjin grinned, “Perfect. I’ll see you next Saturday.”

Hyunjin shut the door, and Minho stood there for just a few seconds, pondering what had just happened. (Suddenly, and for the first time in years, he was  _ really _ excited to work on a Saturday.)

_ ; What was your worst fight about? _

“Why won’t you just admit you love me?” Hyunjin asked, flailing his arms in front of Minho’s face. Minho rolled his eyes, wishing Hyunjin could see all the irony of their current situation — sitting in Hyunjin’s basement while a party raged above them, sharing half of a pizza Minho had delivered an hour prior.

Hyunjin was pretty dense, though — couldn’t see past the money he possessed — and he took a hell of a lot of offense to Minho’s reaction: “Why are you rolling your eyes at me? Minho, we’ve been fucking around for months, on-and-off dating or  _ whatever _ we’re doing, and I am  _ beyond _ tired of it. I just want to be yours; I  _ just _ want us to work out. Why—”

“Can you  _ please _ just  _ fucking _ stop?” Minho begged, tossing the piece of pizza he’d been gnawing on back into the box. He shot to his feet, nearly matching Hyunjin’s height, and decided to fire back with just as much heat despite his gut instinct telling him not to: “I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that we live different lives. This party every weekend shit doesn’t work for me. This getting drunk, flirting around, paying people not to spread a bunch of naked pictures they caught of you — that doesn’t work for me. I’m sorry, but I can’t be exclusive with some rich priss who’s danced around with everyone and their mother.”

Hyunjin’s jaw went tight, dangerously silent as he collected his thoughts. “Really, Minho? You don’t know me well enough by now to think maybe, just maybe, I’d give it all up for you? You think I wouldn’t commit to being  _ exclusive _ if you’d just admit that you love me? I  _ know _ you do. How many times have you told me—?”

“Heat of the moment.” Minho dismissed, quick, and cold, and mean.

“Is that so?” If the hurt wasn’t already apparent on Hyunjin’s face, it was undeniable in his voice, “Well, Minho, I’ll have you know, with all the people  _ and their mothers _ I’ve danced around with, not a single other person has said ‘I love you’ in the heat of the moment. That’s not something that just  _ slips _ . But. Fine.”

Hyunjin pulled a few bills out of his pocket and tossed them on top of the pizza box. “There’s your tip, by the way. Go. I’m sure they’re missing you at work.”

Hyunjin went back upstairs, and Minho laughed a little bit. Again. Irony, and Hyunjin couldn’t see it — ending an argument with some money tossed in Minho’s direction; oh, Minho wanted to laugh; he wanted to pick up the bills, find Hyunjin, and toss them right back in his face. But, he didn’t. Unfortunately, he  _ did _ need the money, floating between any part-time jobs he could get until he could steal that spot he’d been craving as a dance teacher, so he collected the tip money Hyunjin had left him — the same amount he gave anyone who delivered his pizza — and he crawled upstairs, using all of his willpower not to look for Hyunjin as he walked toward the front door.

Yes, Minho did love Hyunjin; yes, he desperately wanted to be exclusive, but he and Hyunjin were different. Way different. Minho had to scrounge for money every week between paying rent and bills for school; Hyunjin was able to focus on studies during the week and party to his heart’s content every weekend because his parents took care of him.

Minho hardly had parents he could call his own anymore.

Maybe it was resentment, or jealousy, that made Minho so hesitant to admit he loved Hyunjin. Truly, Hyunjin hadn’t done a thing different than he had when he had met Minho. He’d always been a sweet boy who was able to have fun because his parents worked hard, and loved him. He’d always been a hard worker himself; there was  _ nothing _ wrong with Hyunjin. Minho was just  _ so fucking jealous _ .

(When Minho called Hyunjin two days later, and asked him to  _ please _ meet him for lunch, he spent the hour they got together confessing what he’d learned about himself, and the jealousy he felt, and finally admitting that, yes, he really did love Hwang Hyunjin.

And Hyunjin, in his absolute joy, forgave Minho in a heartbeat.

“So is this, like, our first official date?” Hyunjin asked, to which Minho shrugged, “Sure? I’d say we’ve already been on a couple dates—”

“Don’t count. You’d never admit you liked me.” Hyunjin said, physically turning his nose up at the idea. Minho snorted; then, Hyunjin just  _ had _ to go and make his heart soft — reaching across the table to hold his hand, and promising he wouldn’t party anymore, nor would he continue sleeping around for fun (which, he mentioned, was a given, with the whole wanting to be exclusive, and Minho promised he knew that, and he trusted Hyunjin, he’d just wanted any excuse but the truth to avoid admitting his love for Hyunjin).

“You don’t have to stop partying just because we’re dating, you know.” Minho said, but Hyunjin waved his hand through the air, signaling that it was no big deal, “My parties were there to fill a void. We can have date nights instead!”

“I still have to work, nerd.”

“With a rich boyfriend? Not on the weekends, you don’t.” Hyunjin said. Minho’s expression dropped, and he glared at Hyunjin— “You are  _ not _ floating me money just because we’re dating.”

“I mean, I don’t  _ have _ to—”

“ _ No _ .”

“ _ Fine _ .” Hyunjin said. “But I’d still appreciate some weekend dates, which I will invite you to, which means I pay, since invitations equal payments.”

“I’m going to reject every single one.”

“You hurt me, Lee Minho.” Hyunjin said; but it, and the entire conversation, was all in fun. Also, Hyunjin ended up paying for  _ this _ date, negating his ‘invitations equal payments’ argument, which Minho teased him for — but, again, it was all in good fun, as was the general aura of their new relationship.)

_ ; Do you ever dance together? _

Minho wasn’t particularly romantic, and he definitely didn’t appreciate celebrating  _ one month _ of being together, especially after being push-and-pull for long enough to consider their relationship one with no official start, but, all the same, Minho didn’t mind slow dancing in Hyunjin’s living room at midnight, his head leaning against Hyunjin’s shoulder as soft music he’d never heard before beat up through his toes and vibrated the space between his and Hyunjin’s hearts.

How cheesy, Minho thought, but he kind of liked the serious and gentle proximity between him and his lover, for a change. He adored their playfulness, and he was comfortable in a relationship that wasn’t centered around intense romance, but this was nice; this was—

—quickly ruined when Hyunjin stepped on Minho’s foot and the two of them stumbled, yelling as they rolled to the ground. Minho landed on top of Hyunjin, hand smacking painfully against the ground as he did his best to prevent Hyunjin from landing too hard, as well as prevent himself from slamming against Hyunjin.

After a second of catching their breath and processing what just happened, both of them started to laugh. Minho dropped his head against Hyunjin’s chest, cracking up as he teased his lover: “You idiot, you stepped on me!”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin giggled. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“Don’t go near my feet.”

“I was thinking more like I make out with you until you forgive me, but whatever, pervert.”

“I hate you.” Minho said, but he loved this. He loved Hyunjin. This kind of relationship, and Hwang Hyunjin himself, made Minho so impossibly happy. He lay with Hyunjin in bliss for some time, until Hyunjin’s back started to hurt and he mentioned that he was serious about wanting to make out.

So, sweet moments over, Minho attached himself to Hyunjin’s lips, and thus concluded their night of ‘officially’ dating for a month.

_ ; When did you know you were in love? _

Minho didn’t ask any questions when he caught Hyunjin crying in the middle of the studio at three o’clock in the morning. He scooped Hyunjin into his arms and held him until he stopped crying, and gathered himself enough to ask: “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was going to get some extra practice.” Minho said. “And you?”

“I guess I wanted to be anywhere but at home.” Hyunjin said. He picked at his jeans and gasped when he shifted his body. Minho frowned, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I overdid practice a bit.” Hyunjin said. Minho reached for Hyunjin’s legs, pressing his hand down against his thigh, then his knee. Hyunjin would groan quietly in pain at each bit of pressure Minho applied with his palm.

“And why are you murdering your muscles at this time of night, huh?” Minho asked. He repositioned him and Hyunjin, so he was sitting in front of Hyunjin, slowly massaging his legs, and Hyunjin was leaning back against the mirror.

“I just felt like I needed to do  _ something _ . I need to work hard at  _ something _ .” Hyunjin said. Minho paused; he had a feeling he knew what this was about. “You think you don’t work hard?”

“I don’t. I’m just some dumb college kid who has everything taken care of for him.” Hyunjin said, speaking through pain and frustration. He laughed a little, then, feeling ridiculous, especially as tears began cascading down his cheeks, as his voice began to shatter with emotion, “I know it’s stupid to feel the way I’m feeling. But I’ve never struggled, and I feel so stupidly lazy and guilty, like I don’t deserve it, like I should work harder at everything I do because I don’t have to work hard at… life.”

“We all have to work hard at different things.” Minho shrugged. “But you don’t have to kill yourself studying or dancing or  _ anything _ just because you have money. Enjoy life, baby. We all find a way to do so.”

Hyunjin grinned stupidly at him: “You called me baby.”

“Because I’m trying to get you to stop crying.” Minho— not the biggest fan of pet names— claimed very quickly. Hyunjin just hummed his doubt, and he beckoned Minho to him. Minho was careful, laying his hips on the ground next to Hyunjin’s, leaning into his shoulder. Hyunjin held Minho to his chest, cheek pressed against the top of Minho’s head, while Minho cradled his waist with the arm that wasn’t propping him up, hand still rubbing his hips for lasting comfort.

“Want to slow dance again?” Hyunjin asked. Minho raised an eyebrow, and pointed at Hyunjin’s legs. Hyunjin shrugged, “They just need to be stretched. Will you slow dance with me?”

“Fine. Only if you don’t step on my feet this time.”

**three.  
** Chan couldn’t say he didn’t believe in fate and soulmates before he met Lee Felix, but the latter definitely made the former believe a hell of a lot more.  
**and their story begins**

_ ; How did you two meet? _

Felix was on his way to lunch, nose buried in a campus map, when his shoulder collided with something rough, and he tumbled backwards, barely catching himself before he collided roughly with the ground. He quickly sat up, realizing he’d just bumped into another person, and that they had also fallen over.

The other boy spoke first: “I’m so sorry!”

Felix just waved him off, taking the hand the other held out to him, as he’d scrambled to his feet quickly after apologizing. Felix admitted, “I kind of needed the wake-up call. It’s been a day — no worries.”

The other boy chuckled, “Tell me about it.”

Felix looked around, searching for his map. The other boy asked, “What are you looking for?” and Felix cursed under his breath before responding, “My campus map. Did it blow away? Did you see it?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t. But, I have one! I don’t need it — my dad went to this school, and he showed me around during the summer. I pretty much have the campus memorized.”

Felix gratefully took the map the boy handed him, thanking him profusely, but the other shrugged, “No problem. Least I could do after knocking you over. What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Lee Felix. You?”

“Chan. Are you from around here?” Chan asked. Felix shook his head, “I’m from Australia. I moved here a couple years ago.”

“No way! I was born in Australia, lived there until I was ten. You can call me Chris, if you want.” Chan said. Felix grinned — what a coincidence.

“Chris it is, then.” Felix said, liking the name for who he assumed would become his good friend. Chan asked, “Where are you eating lunch, by the way?” and Felix  _ knew _ , right then, as Chan suggested the two eat lunch together, that they would be close.

(Felix wasn’t the biggest believer in fate, but he also felt like bumping into the  _ one _ other Australian in the entire school that day wasn’t  _ that _ much of a coincidence.)

_ ; You’re high school sweethearts? How did that work? _

“I don’t know what to major in. Dance? Music production? You’re going into music production, right? Did you email any professors yet? Are they nice? I bet the dance teachers will be nice. Maybe I can do both! And I can minor in language!”

“Mhm,” Chan followed along silently, fingers dancing along Felix’s back. Felix had a little brochure to the college both of them had gotten accepted to open in front of him, on Chan’s bed, lying above the chemistry book he was supposed to be studying from for finals. Chan, too, was supposed to be studying, but he and Felix were  _ both _ studying chemistry, and Felix had long since abandoned his textbook to stress over college instead, but Chan was here for it. He was always there for Felix.

“Sorry.” Felix muttered, closing the brochure. Chan was quick to tell him not to apologize. With Chan’s validation, Felix groaned, and started up again — “There’s just so much I want to do! I wish I was  _ really _ good at something, like you, so it was easier for me to choose.”

“Hey, it’s good that you’re interested in a lot of things. You’re good at  _ all _ of those things. I’m just good at music.” Chan said. Felix turned his neck to face Chan so fast it worried Chan; but then Felix shoved his shoulder and had Chan laughing as he fell back, “You’re good at  _ everything _ .”

“If I was good at everything, I’d be struggling to pick a major, too.” Chan said. Felix rolled his eyes, “No. You’re just not indecisive like me. I like the sound of dance and music production as majors, though, and language as my minor. Should I minor in Korean, just to learn it better? Maybe I should minor in Japanese! You can help me, right?”

“I can help you with all of that.” Chan said. Felix scrunched up his nose, “See? Good at everything. Show-off.”

“ _ No _ , I just happen to speak three languages and enjoy music-related subjects.” Chan said. He shifted across the bed to be a little closer to Felix, to drape his arm over Felix’s back.

“What do you think about a double major and a double minor?”

“I think that’s a lot, but you can do it.” Chan said. “You should try to get your requirements out of the way your first year, so it’s easier to get into your other classes later on. Want to take astronomy with me, for the science requirement?”

“Yes!” Felix said, “I’ve always wanted to take astronomy!”

Chan laughed, “Then let’s take astronomy.”

Chan and Felix were good about slipping into classes together — always finding at least one class throughout the day that worked for both of their schedules, that they both wanted or needed to take, that they could spend their time together studying or practicing for. (In their junior year, both of them had taken theater, and they had spent countless hours in each other’s rooms acting out scenes and incorporating kiss scenes just so they had an excuse to kiss each other — as if they really needed an excuse, having been together for nearly three years, at that point.)

“College is going to be so fun.” Felix said, shaking his shoulders in excitement. “Thank you for making school so fun.”

Chan chuckled, “You’re welcome?” and Felix kissed him briefly; then, “We should really get back to studying chemistry now.”

_ What other ‘firsts’ was he? First kiss? First date? First… you know….? _

“People eat popcorn during a horror movie? If it’s as scary as you say, isn’t this a choking hazard?”

“Chris,” Felix laughed. He settled back against Chan, popcorn sharing their laps as a seat. “Trust me, you’ll know when it is and isn’t safe to eat. A lot of horror movies are kind of cheesy and build up to jump scares.”

“You’ve never seen this one, though.” Chan said. Felix shrugged, “I’m confident.”

“I guess I will be, too,” Chan said, grabbing a handful of popcorn as Felix pressed the play button on the remote. The movie started off tame enough; Chan kept distracting himself by tapping at Felix’s hips and kissing him at particularly slow parts. Felix would laugh as he caught up with the situation — getting temporarily distracted by the kiss and then pulling back to reprimand Chan; “ _ Chris _ , pay attention — this is your first horror movie!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Chan said, but he wasn’t, really. He did do his best to pay attention to the movie, but it  _ was _ pretty hard to keep his lips off of Felix, and he  _ did _ fail a few more times, even missing the biggest jump scare because his lips were on Felix’s cheek.

“You’re really ruining your first horror movie experience over me.” Felix said. He turned his head, and Chan kissed him again as soon as his lips were close enough for Chan to do so. Felix rolled his eyes, “You’re acting like such a typical high school dude — can’t keep your hands off your partner for a second?”

“What can I say? I’m seventeen and I like kisses.” Chan said. Felix shoved a couple pieces of popcorn into Chan’s mouth, and physically pressed his fingers against Chan’s jaw to move his head back to the movie, “I’m not going anywhere. You can have kisses after you get scared.”

(The movie was so corny and predictable, Chan ended up not jolting at any of the scares. He and Felix reacted to the film as if it were a comedy — telling each other what they  _ knew _ would happen and making fun of the way the monster looked. Still, he promised Felix he had fun, and Felix promised he would pick a  _ good _ movie next time.)

_ ; When did you know you were in love? _

“Hey, Lix? Remember how we talked about going to Australia as our one big trip before college?” Chan asked. It was an out-of-nowhere question; the two of them had just been laying silently together on Felix’s couch. Chan was on his phone, and Felix was laying on top of him, watching random, nostalgic cartoons and telling Chan about them when he recalled fond memories or was particularly amused by things that had changed in the past fifteen years.

Felix hummed, not thinking much of Chan’s words, wondering if maybe Chan was just bringing that up because Felix was telling him so many stories about his childhood in Australia. Then, Chan started taking off his phone case, and he handed Felix two plane tickets. “Surprise.”

“ _ Chris! _ Chris!” Felix couldn’t think of anything else to say. He scrambled to sit up, and Chan huffed as Felix knocked the air out of him with his sudden movements. Felix hardly noticed, though, still staring at the plane tickets in shock. He looked at Chan eventually, and he yelled in excitement: “When did you buy these?  _ Chris _ .”

“I bought them about two weeks ago.” Chan said. “Right before graduation. I was talking to your mom, and she’s fixing up your bedroom so we can sleep in there. I told her I had no problem paying for a hotel for the week we’re there, but she said, nonsense, she wants to meet me and see you again anyway. She misses you.”

“I’m going to start crying.” Felix said, his voice already cracking. Chan sat up, and held him, “Baby, don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it.” Felix said, tears filling his eyes. “This is so… Chris, what the hell?”

“I love you.” Chan said, rubbing Felix’s back as he started to cry. At that, Felix sobbed, and he held Chan tightly, happiness overwhelming his entire body: “I love you. I love you  _ so much _ .”

**four.  
** If anyone asked Changbin and Jisung for ‘their story,’ they wouldn’t have an answer. The two of them had always just _been_ ; there wasn’t much to tell.  
**and their story begins**

_ ; What’s the cheesiest thing he’s ever done? _

Changbin’s hand hit the glass with a bit more force than made either of them comfortable, but the glass didn’t break or give; so Changbin could focus on the positioning of his arms, and Jisung could focus on speaking, “If this gets any more like a cheesy romance movie—”

“Listen to me,” Changbin begged, his voice coming out awfully aggressive for how gentle he meant to sound. “For  _ thirty seconds _ , just listen to me. Please.”

“Cut! Changbin, you fumbled with your lines again. Also, please don’t break our prop window; I know you’ve been working out, but you don’t need to flex on the rest of us. Jisung, I need more annoyance in your line. Practice!” Hyunjin called for a break after that, saying he needed water and a minute of  _ not _ watching Jisung and Changbin act even  _ more _ like a couple than they did on a daily basis.

Jisung and Changbin smiled at each other. Changbin caught Jisung by the elbow and dipped him just because he could, kissed him briefly and listened to Hyunjin gag and whine into his megaphone: “I said take a break! Stop acting like a cheesy couple on my set!”

“We  _ are _ a cheesy couple, this isn’t acting!” Changbin called back. He pulled Jisung up again, and Jisung remained latched onto him, speaking against his mouth: “I like that you can just bend me over whenever you want.”

“Stop! Talking!”

_ ; You’re co-workers too? Don’t you get sick of each other? _

“Baby! I’m going to hang out with Chan and Felix, want to come?” Jisung called. He waited a full two minutes for an answer; Changbin came into the living room fully dressed, shoes on: “Let’s go.”

“ _ I’m _ not even ready yet — how do you get ready so fast?” Jisung asked. Changbin looped his arm around Jisung’s waist, chest to back, and shrugged, “My days of scheduling my classes ten minutes apart taught me some valuable skills.”

“Idiot.” Jisung muttered. “Felix and I are going to watch a movie later. I think Chan wants to take you to get ice cream. He told me he’s been craving some lately, but he doesn’t like to go alone, and Felix’s stomach hasn’t been agreeing with milk lately.”

“Swapping lovers for a day. Sounds like fun.” Changbin said. He kissed Jisung, “I’ll miss you.”

“Will you, though?” Jisung asked, and Changbin shrugged, “Okay. No. But only because I know I’ll get to bother you again tonight. Or tomorrow.”

Jisung laughed at him, and batted his arms away so he could finish getting ready. The two did this often -- hanging out interchangeably with Chan and Felix just to get out, to have fun. It made nights more special, if they hadn’t seen each other during the day. It was their own miniature reunion, even if the time spent apart wasn’t much. (Changbin and Jisung found a way to make everything special.)

_ ; Do you think you’ll get married one day? _

“Jisung, your alarm is going off…. Jisung…. Han Jisung…. This is why you’re late to  _ everything _ , for fuck’s sake.”

Jisung finally woke up when Changbin flicked his shoulder. He whined and shoved Changbin back, but he finally processed the words that his half-asleep brain had picked up on, and he reached over to punch the snooze button on his alarm. He rolled over and pulled Changbin back into his arms, and Changbin kissed his shoulder a few times before dozing off. Of course, ten minutes later, Jisung’s alarm started blaring again, and the two of them ended up full-on wrestling each other as Changbin whined about Jisung’s alarm being just as annoying as he was and Jisung retaliated by flicking the end of Changbin’s nose.

“Do you ever think about how we don’t really act like a couple?” Changbin asked twenty minutes later, when he and Jisung were a little more awake given that they had both splashed their faces with cold water and were getting ready for a shower. Jisung raised an eyebrow, “Huh?”

“I don’t know. Shower thought.” Changbin tried to dismiss, to which Jisung snorted, “We’re not even in the shower yet.”

Jisung did step into the shower a second later, though, and he held the curtain open for Changbin to step in as well. He pulled the curtain closed and faced Changbin, “Explain.”

“Hyunjin told me we don’t act like a couple, that we act more like best friends since we still tease each other and stuff like that. Like, we wrestled over your alarm this morning, and I called you annoying at least three times.” Changbin said. In the meantime, he had been rinsing Jisung’s hair, getting it wet, and squeezing some shampoo into his hands to massage into Jisung’s hair — so Jisung’s eyes were closed as he spoke: “Well we’ve always been in love, Bin. Makes sense we still act like best friends. You  _ are _ my best friend.”

“You told me Hyunjin was your best friend yesterday.”

“I can have more than one best friend.”

“That kind of negates the meaning of  _ best _ — ow!” Changbin flicked Jisung’s shoulder, as Jisung had just softly punched him in the gut. Jisung laughed, and Changbin started to tickle him. Jisung shrieked: “No fair! No fair! I’m blinded by the soap on my face!”

“That’s what you get,  _ brat _ .” Changbin said, but he stopped tickling Jisung. His hands remained against Jisung’s palms for a few seconds, as trapping his fingers was Jisung’s only defense against Changbin. Jisung squeezed his hands, “Are you done?” and Changbin laughed, “Yes, brat, I am. Let me rinse your hair.”

Changbin was quick about rinsing Jisung’s hair and face, but not because he wanted to attack him with tickles again (though that had been on his mind at first). As all the soap washed down Jisung’s cheeks, Changbin decided he wanted a kiss instead — so, he pressed his lips to Jisung’s, and tasted just a tiny bit of shampoo, but didn’t regret his impatience, and didn’t cut the kiss short.

“Hyunjin’s dumb, by the way.” Jisung said, taking his turn to shampoo Changbin’s hair. “Couples can act however they want.”

“I know.” Changbin said. “I just think, when we get married, it’ll be kind of funny, because we’ll basically be two dumb friends with rings.”

Jisung had stopped lathering Changbin’s hair. Changbin couldn’t look, as he didn’t want to risk the soap getting into his eyes. He reached his hands out, and touched Jisung’s hips, and asked, “Sung?”

“ _ When _ we get married?” Jisung asked, and he sounded fond. He  _ felt _ fond. Changbin realized what he had said, and smiled, “Yeah. When we get married.”

Jisung looped his arms around Changbin’s shoulders and kissed him under the water until their shower ran cold.

_ ; When did you know you were in love? _

“Why are you asking?” Changbin snorted, his eyes focused on Jisung’s back as his fingers massaged Jisung’s sore shoulders. “We don’t really have an answer for that one. We’ve always been in love.”

“Corny.” Minho muttered, and Changbin rolled his eyes, “You’re one to talk. Your boyfriend fell in love with you because you accepted the fact that he’s a rich boy.”

“That’s not  _ why _ I fell in love.” Hyunjin corrected, flipping Changbin off across the table. “That’s just when I  _ knew _ .”

“Mhm.” Changbin hummed his doubt. He hooked his chin over Jisung’s shoulder, “We can’t really pinpoint any of our big moments, though. When we met, first kiss, first date -- everything just blends together.”

“They’ve basically been married since they were kids.” Felix said, popping a grape into his mouth. It had come from Seungmin’s plate, and Jeongin had swatted at him for Seungmin, glaring across the table. Felix stuck his tongue out, and answered Jeongin’s silent nagging, “Seungmin would give me his grapes if I asked.”

“No I wouldn’t.” Seungmin deadpanned. Felix shrugged, and stole another. Seungmin sensed the movement and told him, “You know, it’s kind of fucked up to steal from the blind.”

Felix stopped halfway to putting the grape in his mouth, and the table fell apart with laughter. Felix dropped his hand into his lap and pouted, “You’re making me feel bad.”

“That’s what you get for stealing my grapes.” Seungmin said, but, of course, he didn’t care. He had been picking at his food all night, focused on the stories everyone was telling, getting a feel for the couples. They didn’t all know each other, after all, but they were getting there. Changbin and Jisung were close to Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan, but they hadn’t gotten the opportunity to talk to Minho much. Felix, on the other hand, knew Minho as a mentor, attending dance lessons at his school, but he wasn’t very familiar with Hyunjin still. Jeongin and Hyunjin were like brothers, but Seungmin and Minho hadn’t been well-acquainted until a few months ago, and were still getting to know things about each other. Seungmin didn’t know Changbin or Jisung at all; Jeongin had hung out with them on set when he went to visit Hyunjin as he directed a few times. They crossed paths in random ways, and here they were now, getting along and making connections as a group. It was sweet, really.

“Kind of like fate,” Chan hinted, and Minho pushed his shoulder, “Don’t say corny things.”

“He’s not wrong, though,” Felix sing-songed, and Jisung shoved him this time, “Just because you met your boyfriend in high school.”

“Says the ‘we’ve always been in love’ couple!” Hyunjin mocked.

“I don’t think any of us are allowed to play the ‘not-corny’ card. We’re all corny.” Seungmin said. No one argued with him; what with Seungmin and Jeongin’s colored songs, and Changbin and Jisung’s forever-in-love narrative. Chan and Felix’s fated introduction; Hyunjin and Minho’s push-and-pull beginning; they all had their toes in the cheesy corner.

“I still think Changbin and Jisung are the most corny, though.” Minho said, and as much as Changbin and Jisung tried to argue that, actually, Chan and Felix took the number one spot, no one sided with them. (There was something about childhood friends- _ and _ -lovers that couldn’t be matched.)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter!](https://twitter.com/SE0SUNN)


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